


Gemini Rising - Part 1

by kyoshiman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoshiman/pseuds/kyoshiman
Summary: An AU that connects the worlds of Harry Potter and the Heroes of Olympus through an OC named Olivia Potter, Harry's twin sister.Harry Potter Universe timeline is static, as the story revolves more heavily around those events, while the Percy Jackson Universe is definitely made more flexible.My first fic, trying to have fun with it :)Comments are on! Leave some suggestions or requests for characters/scenarios you'd like to see!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

31 October 1981

On that bittersweet night of victory and mourning, two dark-haired infants sat wailing in their cribs.

The boy cried for his mother, who lay limp on the floor, unmoving. He reached his little hand through the bars of the crib towards the body on the ground, wanting comfort for the pain that seared across his forehead. There, above his right eyebrow, was a peculiar and painful gash in the shape of a lightning bolt, and it stung more with every sob that left his little body.

The girl had no injury, but the sound of her twin’s cries had sent her into tears as well. Neither of them understood why their mom and dad wouldn’t come to their aid. Neither of them could know that they would never feel the warmth of their parents again.

They were stuck there in the nursery, with freezing rain dripping down through the gaping hole that had been blown through the roof. A dreadful beginning to their orphan lives, to which so soon they would be swept away by the arms of strangers.

***

“James and Lily… oh Albus, I just can’t believe it,” McGonagall sniffed, wiping her nose as Dumbledore touched her shoulder gently with his long, bony fingers. The two were sitting solemnly on the wall outside Four Privet Drive, mourning the loss of two of the best young wizards they had known. It was an unbelievable loss that came with such a shocking triumph. The little boy, Harry, had somehow been the downfall of Voldemort.

“And what of the children?” she continued, “Orphaned before they can walk! And little Harry, a hero and he doesn’t even know it!”

Dumbledore looked down at his strange watch, a glum expression on his face, “Hagrid’s late. And it was he who told you I’d be here, by the way?”  
McGonagall nodded, “I don’t suppose you’d like to share why you are here, of all places?”

“I’ve come to deliver the twins to their aunt and uncle. They’re the only family they have, other than each other. Hagrid is on his way from Godric’s Hollow now.”

Shocked, McGonagall nearly jumped to her feet, gesturing to the dull house that was number four, “You can’t mean… _These_ people? Dumbledore, they’re horrible! There have never been two people less like us. The Potter children, living _here_!”

“It will be the best place for them. Their aunt will explain everything when they are older, and most importantly it will keep Harry from the poison of fame and renown until he is old enough to handle it.”

McGonagall began to speak again, but failed to come up with the words, so she changed her grievance, “Do you really think it wise to entrust this task to Hagrid?”

“I would trust Hagrid with my life,” said Dumbledore.

“I know, and his heart is in the right place, but-”

She was cut off as a loud rumbling sound broke into the silent neighborhood, preceding the descent of a motorcycle from the sky, driven by none other than the enormous, hairy, kind-hearted Hagrid.

McGonagall let out a short huff, her point proven, but Dumbledore ignored it, stepping forward to greet the half-giant.

“Hagrid, at last. Where did this motorcycle come from?”

“Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,” Hagrid said, very carefully dismounting the bike, “Young Sirius Black lent it to me, the poor bloke.”

“No problems, were there?”

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, pulling a bundle of blankets from the large satchel that hung on his chest.

“Just one hitch. Erm..”

“What is it, Hagrid?” Dumbledore asked gently, though his eyes flashed slightly behind his half-moon spectacles.

“Well, you asked me to bring both kids but… Well, the girl was nowhere to be found.”

McGonagall gasped, and Hagrid hung his head, passing swaddled Harry over to Dumbledore.

“I dunno if she was taken… or…” Hagrid held back a great sob as an enormous tear fell into his beard. Dumbledore held the baby, silent.

“Who would take her?” McGonagall asked.

“I don’t know,” Dumbledore said solemnly, “There was no prophecy about the girl.”

But the wise old man could not have been more wrong about that.

***

Over three-thousand miles to the west of England and about one mile up in the sky, several deities were engaged in a heated argument.

“You LOST her?!” Hecate yelled sharply, staring daggers at Zeus. The twelve Olympians were all gathered on their thrones, with the addition of Hecate and a few other minor gods.

“I did not _lose_ her. My servants were sent to retrieve her as soon as we got word,” he boomed, gesturing to the two cloud nymphs who were hanging nearby, shuddering at every word, “and she was not there.”

Hecate fumed, “The incompetence disgusts me,” and snapped her fingers angrily, reducing the trembling nymphs into a fine mist. 

Zeus sighed, exasperated, “Hecate, really.”

“I want her _found_. And I would think you’d be a little more concerned! The prophecy speaks to all of us!”

“Yes, it does. But it was quite obscure, there was really no way we could have gotten to her sooner.”

Hecate huffed, “Do you not remember that line about our doom in the prophecy? Apollo, recite it. Maybe it will remind you all of your impending destruction. A little  _ motivation _ for you to take this seriously and  _ find her _ .”

Zeus conceded, sighing and looking to Apollo, who sat on his throne, leisurely examining his fingernails. The rest of the gods looked at him as well.

When he noticed their stares, he straightened up, looking like a kid who had zoned out in class.

“What?” he asked tentatively, glancing at Artemis, who rolled her eyes.

“YOU’RE the Oracle! Recite the line!” Hecate exclaimed, visibly boiling in frustration.

“ _I_ am not the Oracle! I am simply the god of the Oracle! There is a difference!” Apollo gave great waving gestures as he delivered his rebuttal. 

“Enough with the _dramatics_. Take it down to Broadway if you must,” Zeus interrupted, rubbing his temples.

Apollo opened his mouth, ready to brag about his recent role in _West Side Story_ , before catching his sister’s glare and quickly composing himself.

“Okay, fine, yes, theeee _Dark_ prophecy, yeah? Ahem, it states that she will be ‘ _the Olympian’s ultimate rise or fall, and bring prosperity or oblivion for all_ ’.” He looked around at them proudly, only receiving a pitying smile from Hestia, down by the hearth. 

Hecate gave Zeus a pointed stare, “Do you feel the gravity of the situation? We must keep track of her, and encourage her as best we can to grow up on _our_ side.”

Zeus nodded, but then another god spoke up. It was Athena, always the voice of reason, coming to her father’s defense, “Hecate, I understand your grievance, but the prophecy also states that she is “ _born of Magic’s breath_ ,” clearly in reference to the fact that she is one of _your_ children. Wouldn’t that make this all _your_ responsibility?”

Aries cut in on the discussion as well, targeting the goddess of magic, “Woah, if she’s _your_ child, how could you not identify her sooner? Or do you just get around that much,” he said, with a vile smirk on his face. Aphrodite shot him an annoyed look, which paled in comparison to the anger in Hecate’s expression.

“It doesn’t work like that. Unlike most of _you_ , I don’t _consort_ with mortals for offspring,” she responded, waving him off haughtily.

Hecate’s children were indeed quite different, as they were not the result of Hecate’s affection for any particular mortal. Long ago, after Prometheus was punished for recklessly gifting fire to humans, the other gods became much more cautious with their gifts. Hecate had a loyal following, and wished to share the gift of magic with them. With abundant caution, she chose one person and gave them a fraction of her soul and power, creating out of a mortal not only a demigod but the first of a long line of wizards. They passed the gift down to their children and grandchildren, and as the magic permeated the mortal world even non-descendents could be born with magical ability. 

However, the gift was not as strong as it was in the first wizard, until three hundred and thirty three years later, a baby was born with that original gift, just as powerful and prominent as the first. A demigod, born to mortal parents, but also a child of Hecate. The rules of parentage _are_ rather bendy when it comes to gods. 

And so it was every three hundred and thirty three years that these children were born, and often Hecate would never even know of them, as they were well concealed from monsters by the thick magic of the wizarding world. It was only the prophecy that had alerted them to the girl’s existence in the first place.

Hecate had finally had enough of the back and forth. Anxious to find the girl, she put an end to the debate with a demand,

“Find her. I expect you all to devote yourselves to this, lest you wish to find oblivion sooner rather than later.”

With that, she snapped her fingers and disappeared into a dark column of smoke. The other gods reluctantly adjourned to begin their search, which for such powerful beings proved to be strangely difficult.

But as it turned out, she was right below their noses.

***

Where dark things happen, dark spirits lurk, so it should have been no surprise that that dreadful night in Godric’s Hollow, servants of the Darkness were present. 

See, the gods were not the only ones trying to raise the girl to their side.

When the demon of the night saw his opportunity, he grabbed the child before anyone else had arrived at the scene. He was a grotesque, humanoid spider-creature, who shifted in and out of shadows and darkness. He snatched her up and traveled through the shadows, emerging in a dark alley in Queens. 

The journey had knocked the girl into a deep sleep, and she did not wake even as he scuttled loudly over the brick wall of the orphanage. 

A light flashed on suddenly over the garden, and the figure of a fat, frizzy-haired woman hobbled out into the garden, brandishing a baseball bat. 

“Who’s there?” She rasped, beating the bat in the palm of her hand.

“A friend, Madame,” the demon said, “I come bearing gifts.” He scurried closer, holding the child up for the woman to see. 

“Is that-?”

“Indeed. The child of the Dark prophecy,” the demon let out a hissing laugh. 

The woman gasped excitedly and came closer. The light shone on her now, and it was clear that she was not a woman at all. She had sickly yellow snake-like eyes, long fangs, and horrible warts all over her face. Looking down, one could see that her hobble was the result of a fat donkey leg where her left leg should be. 

She took the baby from the demon, cackling wildly, “Master will be so pleased. We will keep her hidden from the gods here until he next wakes, and deliver her to him.”

“Hidden here?”

Madame nodded emphatically, “Right in front of their stupid Olympian faces! It’s genius!”

“Genius! We will be so rewarded!”

Madame rocked the child gently, licking her lips, “Her scent is very strong.”

The demon agreed, “But you can’t eat her, Madame.”

“Of course not!” the monster barked back, “I only mean it may be difficult to conceal her. I will have to plant more flowers to mask it.

The orphanage garden was filled with large, bell-shaped blossoms that reeked of rotting flesh. The corpse flower, as it was so rightly named, was Madame’s signature flower. She often made the children tend the garden as a punishment, as the stench was enough to make anyone obedient. It would surely mask the scent of the young demigod. 

And so began the little Potter’s childhood, away from her family and homeland, sleeping in the arms of a horrible, smelly monster.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some baby demigod adventures, more godly banter.

Spring 1987

Olivia

There was never a fresher breath of air than that first free step out of the orphanage. Even the rancid trash heaps on the city sidewalks could not compare to the stench of Madame’s hellish gardens. 

It was after midnight, and the small but determined six-year-old marched right out that door and into the dark street. She was finally getting out. 

It all started when Madame locked her in the closet, again. Well, really it had started when little Olivia Potter, impulsive as ever, decided to lead the other kids into a horrific battle against the corpse flowers in Madame’s garden. It was a righteous fight, Olivia thought, as the flowers had been attacking their senses without provocation for years, and they were not something one could ever grow nose-blind to. 

Sticks in hand and shirts pulled up over their noses, the little soldiers rushed the putrid enemy army, smacking and hacking away. It backfired completely. The flowers, upon attack, released a thick perfume that swept across the entire yard, sending Olivia’s brave militia to the ground in coughing fits. Three kids passed out. An eight-year-old named Sammy crawled over to her, rasping, “Sir, it was a brave fight, but I think we should surrender.”

Olivia was wise for her age, she knew when to admit defeat. She nodded to Sammy and stood, braving the smell, and yelled “RETREAT!” She helped Sammy to his feet and ordered him to help the fallen soldiers. “Yessir!” He cried, and began dragging a passed-out girl named Bella towards safety. 

As she stood, examining the carnage and her poor army struggling to find fresh air, she felt it was not a total loss. Many of those foul flowers had been decently damaged, one had even been stomped into the ground and surely had no chance of recovery.

It was a brief moment of satisfaction, swiftly ended by Madame’s fat hands gripping her shoulders forcefully. Olivia looked up and saw a face twisted with rage. Her dry, cracking lips trembled with fury, and for a moment Olivia thought she saw Madame’s eyes glow yellow. 

She had seen this before, only ever for a second, but Madame’s face would change. Sometimes her teeth would look long and sharp when she opened her mouth. Other times Olivia would swear she saw a hoof instead of Madame’s calloused foot. These images would disappear as soon as they came, but they did nothing to make Olivia any less suspicious or wary of her caretaker.

“Caretaker,” as if you could even call it that. Madame treated the children in the orphanage like her personal servants. They would bring her wine and snacks while she sat in her recliner and picked her ears while watching _The Real Housewives_. The older kids were made to cook for the whole house, while the younger ones were given various surfaces to scrub clean (though the house was still always grimy). When they angered her, she would cycle through her favorite punishments; tending to the garden, massaging her disgusting feet, or scrubbing the toilets with toothbrushes. She rarely gave these to Olivia, however, as it seemed her preferred method of punishment for the little demigod was locking her in the closet for days at a time. 

This is where Olivia found herself that day, being shoved into the dark cupboard and having the door slammed in her face. Pouting, she sat down on a mop bucket and held her chin in her hands. 

She spent a lot of time in there and had learned to hide snacks behind the cleaning supplies, as she would likely miss several meals. She also hid some paper and markers, as sitting in the darkness and silence was unbearable. She couldn’t really see what she was drawing, of course, but she liked the way the markers felt gliding across the paper. It kept her occupied for hours. 

But today she didn’t feel like entertaining herself. Instead, she stared into the darkness in front of her until something caught her eye. She blinked, and the image grew clearer. There was someone else in the closet. 

It was a young boy. She had never seen him before, but he looked strangely familiar. Looking into his eyes was like looking into her own, if not for the glasses. He looked back at her with a similar mix of confused recognition. 

He wasn’t really in the closet with her, she realized. He was sitting in front of her on nothingness, and while she could see him clear as day she couldn’t see any of his surroundings. 

They stared at each other in curious silence for a moment, until Olivia’s mouth caught up with her racing mind and she blurted out, “Who are you?”

The boy looked surprised and tilted his head, a wild mess of hair flopping as he did so.

“Who are you?” he said, in a funny accent. 

Olivia frowned, “I shouldn’t tell a stranger that.”

“So why did you ask me?”

“Fine. Why are you in my closet?”

The boy looked around and said, “I’m not. _You’re_ in _my_ cupboard!”

They stared again for a second, then, “ _Your accent is silly,_ ” both kids said at the same time. Olivia giggled and the boy broke out into a grin. 

“I don’t know who you are,” Olivia said, “but this is better than being locked in here alone.”

“You’re locked up too?”

Olivia nodded, “I hate it here.” 

The boy nodded in agreement, “I feel trapped.”

Olivia’s eyes lit up, an idea spiraling around in her mind. 

“What?” the boy asked.

“I’m gonna escape. You should too.”

“I wish,” he frowned. I dunno where to go.”

“Me neither. But I'm leaving,” she said, her resolve set and unmovable. “I’ll find somewhere better. You will too.”

He smiled, “I hope so. I hope you do.”

She reached out her hand to him, “I’m glad we met.” 

“Me too,” he said, reaching out his own hand to shake hers, “By the way, I’m Ha-”

Olivia jolted awake, lifting her head off of her hands. In front of her, where the boy had been, there was nothing but darkness. Had she dozed off? Was it all just a dream?

Confused and mildly groggy, she remembered her plan. She would escape, tonight! She began planning in her head, anticipation growing in her chest. Time to get out of this awful place.

She played over and over in her mind the image of her walking out the door, and felt something pull in her gut. The closet door swung open, though there was no one on the other side to unlock it. 

Not questioning her freedom, Olivia tiptoed out and quietly shut the door behind her. It was evening now, Madame would be well into her wine bottle and not so vigilant. 

Olivia crept up the stairs to her room, careful not to let any of the other kids see her. There were some ruthless tattletales in that house, and everyone knew she was supposed to be locked up in the closet. 

In her room, she grabbed her backpack and stuffed in some clothes and some of the snacks she kept hidden under her bed. Meera, one of the other kids she shared a room with had a few water bottles on her bedside table. Olivia grabbed those too but left a candy bar in their place to make up for it. 

With her bag packed, it was now just a waiting game. She went back down to the closet and sat in there until she was sure everyone had gone to sleep, then crept out to the front door, twisted the lock as silently as she could, and opened it wide. 

She stepped out into the night air, breathing deep and looking out at the quiet street. She was halfway down the steps when a voice made her whirl around with a start. 

“Livi!” The voice cried out, attached to a plump two-year-old girl who stood in the doorframe, looking at the older girl with her little brows furrowed. 

The toddler had escaped her crib many times before, so it wasn’t a surprise to see her at the door, but it made Olivia stop in her tracks. 

Little Dani. How could she forget to say goodbye? 

Dani had arrived at the orphanage at just a few weeks old, and Olivia had been most often assigned to hold her and give her her bottle. They developed a connection, one that Olivia had not found in any of the other children at the orphanage. She didn’t know what it was, but she could feel that they were alike somehow. This sunny little toddler was the closest thing she had to a family, and she had forgotten to say goodbye. 

Olivia rushed back up the steps and gave the girl a hug, “I’ll miss you, Dani. I’ll come back for you someday.”

Dani frowned, “You stay.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” Olivia said, slowly backing down the steps.

The little girl thought for a moment, then with a stomp of her foot declared, “I come!” 

Olivia started to shake her head, but the toddler was already waddling out to the stairs, climbing cautiously down. This was a stubborn child, there would be no convincing her to stay put without a tantrum, which would surely give away the escape.

“Fine then. Come on,” Olivia conceded, grabbing the little one’s hand and leading her out into the night. 

It was dark and chilly. Olivia put one of her sweatshirts on a shivering Dani, tying it up so it wouldn’t drag on the ground. This was going to be difficult, taking care of herself and a smaller child, but she was determined to succeed. The pitch-black alleyways and distant screeching tires threatened to break down her resolve, as suddenly the stench-ridden walls of the orphanage seemed safe and cozy. 

They walked until they were both sore and yawning, the sun rising through the buildings ahead. Olivia spotted a cardboard box sitting beside a dumpster and thought it was probably their best option. She led Dani over and made her a bed of shirts and her spare sweatshirt, then laid down next to her with a pair of pants folded under her head. 

They slept for hours and woke to grumbling tummies. Olivia split a granola bar up between the two of them and tried to get Dani up and walking again. It was like walking a dog through a treat factory, trying to keep the toddler focused and on pace. Every few minutes she would try to stop and sit or see some shiny thing on the ground and pick it up. She had amassed quite the collection in her pocket and could not be convinced to stop, no matter how heavy the load got. 

Olivia normally adored Dani’s excited personality, but right then it was frustrating. She was anxious. They were still far too close to the orphanage (not that she had any real sense of where they were, but she could feel the proximity). She also wondered how they would get more food. The reality of her impulsive escape was starting to crash down on her small shoulders, and she wished she could just curl up and cry. It wouldn’t be so bad if she hadn’t let Dani come, now she had a whole other life to look after, and could barely look after herself. 

After walking all morning, they reached an underpass where several people had set up camp. Olivia approached cautiously, but Dani rushed forward when one of the women offered her a lollipop. The woman had kind eyes, so much gentler than Madame’s, so Olivia relaxed a bit when she gave them a blanket to sit on and some warm soup. She usually knew better than to accept food from strangers, but her instincts told her that this was their safest option. 

They stayed with the group of homeless people all day listening to their stories. One of their new underpass friends introduced himself as Mr. Charleston Charlick, a name that made both little girls giggle. Mr. Charleston Charlick was a wild-eyed old man with a scruffy grey beard and an endearingly crooked smile. His stories were their favorite. He described an encounter with a water-dragon in the Hudson river, and how he lulled the creature into a trance using a magical lullaby to stop it from attacking tourists. The others laughed him off like he was crazy, but Olivia was fascinated by the tale. 

She was fascinated by him in general. Things seemed to happen easily for him, as if by magic. He could open a can of soup without a can opener, and light the fire to heat it up without a match. None of the other residents of the underpass seemed to notice these things, but Olivia couldn’t take her eyes away when it would happen. He saw her watching as he lit a flame, and asked, “Would you like to learn?” She nodded eagerly, and he handed her a piece of paper. After a few minutes of instruction, she was able to light the paper with a swift wave of her hand. “Amazing. You’re a quick learner,” Mr. Charlick said, patting her head, “and now you can create light whenever it’s dark.”

Olivia felt safer knowing this skill, and would use it many times in their coming weeks on the street. 

Over the next several days, Olivia brought them deeper and deeper into the city. She managed to get them enough food by begging and became skilled at finding sheltered alleyways for them to sleep in. They were, however, completely lost. Olivia’s only sense of direction was how far away from the orphanage she felt.

Though, being lost would soon prove to be the least of their problems. When she left the orphanage, Olivia left behind the wretched protection of the corpse flower, and without it, her demi-god scent could spread uninhibited. And it did spread, all the way to the particularly keen nose of a frightening feline creature. 

At first glance, it was any old alleycat. Dani saw it one day while they were packing up their little camp and yelled “Kitty!” before rushing towards it. Olivia grabbed her and held her back, reaching for the metal pipe one of the homeless people had given her to use for protection. “Not a kitty,” she said, as the creature turned towards them, its limbs elongating and its teeth sharpening. 

It hissed, and Olivia could have sworn it was talking. 

“Hhhello demi-godssss,” she heard it say, “don’t youu look sscrummptiouss.”

Not knowing what a demi-god was, and not bothering to learn, she banged the pipe on the ground to try and scare it away. It did the opposite. The monster lunged forward, snarling, so she brought the pipe down on its head as hard as she could, 

She felt the adrenaline rush through her, sharpening her senses. The creature yowled in pain and skulked backward, looking for another point of attack. Before it could rush again, Olivia felt the fear and excitement boiling within her. The trick that Mr. Charlick taught her suddenly sprung to mind, and she let everything she was feeling rush out of her hands. The pipe grew hot, and as the monster rushed again she swung at it with the flaming hot piece of metal. 

There was a whoosh of flame, and the creature was sent flying backward, landing writhing and burning on the ground. It soon burned down into sulfuric ash, scattering in the wind. 

Both girls stood there for a while, shocked. Finally, Olivia shook herself out of her daze, grabbed her stuff, and swiftly led Dani away.

And so that’s how the weeks passed. Find food, find shelter, light a monster on fire, find food again. After a month of living in the streets, Olivia was exhausted. She had grown tough, and careful, but it wasn’t getting any easier. She had managed to keep them well-fed and monster-free for almost four days, but she felt it would be short-lived, as it seemed every time she did her fire trick to get rid of one monster, it would attract two more. 

They had made it to a nicer part of the city, and Olivia hoped people would be more generous here. They did, however, have to try and keep a low profile, as Olivia was sure the police would send her straight back to the orphanage. She had seen it happen countless times with other kids who had tried running away.

Soon they came across a park with a fountain and a big arch and decided it was a good place for a break. Olivia sat Dani down on the edge of the fountain and used the water to wash the dirt off her little face. She stooped over the water to wash her own face when she saw the reflection of a man behind her. Scared, she whirled around and brandished her pipe.

“Woah there, killer!” he said, feigning fear. He was super tan, with sandy blond hair and dark aviator sunglasses. He wore jeans and an obscure band t-shirt. He flashed a brilliant white smile and said, “It’s alright, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” she asked cautiously, still gripping the pipe. 

“I’m a lot of things,” he answered, “I’m a winner, for one. Your name _is_ Olivia, right?”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m also a genius,” he said, smirking and popping a piece of gum in his mouth. 

“So you know everything?” She asked, .

“Not everything. Like, for instance, who this little one is,” he said, gesturing to Dani and giving her a little wave as he chewed his gum. 

She giggled and reached to be picked up, and before Olivia could stop him he had swept her up in his arms. He lifted his sunglasses up atop his head, revealing golden eyes that looked happily at the toddler. 

“I’m Dani,” she said, reaching up and touching his blond hair, and then her own equally golden locks. He nodded, bouncing her up and down, “Nice to meet you, Dani.” His expression grew sweet and confused for a moment, and he put her down gently. 

Olivia, still unsure why he was there, asked “What do you want?”

The man whistled, “Direct, aren’t we? See, I’m one to appreciate the art of conversation.” Seeing the frown on her face, he sighed and said, “You’ll find out soon. Don’t go too far.”

He flicked his sunglasses back down onto his nose, gave them both a pat on the head, and started to walk away. After a few steps, he turned around and looked at them for a moment, then said,

“Stay safe, kid.”

***

“Everyone, you owe me a thousand Drachmas and one of your temples!” Apollo sang out, striding into the throne room.

“What the Heavens are you talking about? Why did you call this meeting?” Hera asked, frowning at his excessiveness. 

“I found the girl! I win!”

“The girl- THE girl? Olivia Potter?” Aries asked, leaning forward in his seat, unusually engaged. 

“That’s the one! She-”

“I can’t believe _you_ found her first. Damn!” Aries cursed, pounding his fist angrily on the arm of his throne. 

“Yes! _I_ found her. She’s in Greenwich Village, carting around another little demigod. They both looked awfully hungry, poor things, they probably haven’t gone far now.”

“Alert Chiron. She should be brought to Camp Half-Blood this instant,” Zeus ordered, and several cloud nymphs scattered to the winds to deliver the message. 

“I’m still waiting on my winnings”

“We never wagered on this, Apollo,” Athena sighed.

“I did! And I lost!” Aries cried, receiving a fierce look from the goddess of Wisdom.

“I would _hope_ you’d all have a little more sense than to gamble on something so important,” she said scathingly. 

Poseidon and Dionysus both averted her piercing gaze as Apollo tried to redirect the attention to himself,

“Don’t I deserve _some_ recognition?” 

“Please, you got lucky. It’s only because you spend so much time flirting with NYU students that you were in the right place at the right time,” Artemis said, scoffing. 

“Don’t be so _judgy_ , sister. Just because you’ve sworn off sex forever doesn’t mean the rest of us should.”

“I’ve sworn off _men_ forever, don’t get confused,” she retorted. 

Hera put her fingers to her temples, “For the love of _us_ , enough. This meeting is adjourned.”

***

After that strange encounter with the sunglass guy, Olivia and Dani sat for most of the day by the fountain. He said don’t go too far, and Olivia hoped that meant help was on the way. Whoever would want to help them, she didn’t know, but she was so exhausted that she would hold out hope as long as possible. 

She looked around for the guy to come back, but he never did. Instead, a teenage boy approached them. He wore a large baseball cap that fell a little too low over his face, and baggy sweatpants that somewhat hid the strange way that his legs moved. He had dark skin and earthy curls that matched his eyes. “You guys okay?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly on the question. Olivia nodded silently, relief flooding over her. She could see safety with this kid, her instincts told her she could trust him. He introduced himself as Parker Bramwell, and said he was there to protect them. He looked around warily, then picked up Dani and held Olivia’s hand. “We’re gonna go somewhere safe.” Olivia wasn’t used to having someone lead _her_ to safety. It was a nice change. 

It didn’t last long, however, for as soon as they had left the main street, a familiar stench caught Olivia’s nose. 

“There you are!” cried a hoarse, ugly voice behind them. A rock-like feeling of dread settled in Olivia’s stomach as she and Parker turned around. It was Madame. Of _course_ it was Madame. 

Parker stepped forward, “These kids are under my protection, leave now,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. 

“I’ve been searching for a month! No way in Hades I'm leaving here without her!” she pointed a scraggly fingernail at Olivia. “You are in so much trouble young lady, get ready for a day in that closet for every HOUR you’ve been gone!”

With that she lunged, her eyes glowing wildly and her teeth growing into horrific fangs. All pretenses dropped, Olivia saw that she was an actual monster, just like the ones that had been hounding her for weeks. Instinctually, she reached for her pipe but realized she had left it in the park. 

Instead, she summoned the fire in her hand and slashed at the monster’s arm just before it could grab her. Madame recoiled, seething with rage. “Argh! Forget it! I’ve kept you alive for

my master, but I just can’t bear another second! You’re done, child!” She grabbed at Olivia once more, but instead of hitting her away, this time Olivia grabbed her back. 

Channeling all her fear, all her anger, and all the neglect and abuse she and the other children had faced for years, she wished for this monster to disappear, to evaporate, to be gone forever. The skin on Madame’s arms where Olivia’s fingers dug into them began to glow, and soon the monster’s entire body lit up like a lightbulb. Oliva screamed and forced all her energy through her fingertips until POOF! Madame disappeared in a cloud of sulfur, leaving Olivia, Parker, and Dani coughing.

“Woah,” Parker said when he had caught his breath. Olivia looked at her hands, also shocked by what she just did. 

“Can we go now?” she asked, looking up at him. He nodded and took her trembling hand. 

He took them down to the subway station, looking over his shoulder for more threats all the way. While they waited for the next train to arrive, Parker rummaged through his bag, looking for snacks for the girls. He unwrapped a yogurt bar and split it in halves. He then proceeded to chew on the wrapper, which made Dani giggle wildly. They rode the train for a few stops, and when they got off Parker told her they were on Long Island. “Where are we going?” She asked. Parker smiled, “Somewhere awesome.”

They walked on the side of the road for what seemed like an hour. Parker apologized for the distance. “Mortal’s cars can’t get to where we’re going,” he explained. Olivia trudged along rather happily, looking forward to this awesome place. Being so close, she started feeling like didn’t need to be on constant guard, and the freedom was addictive. So much so that she almost didn’t notice the rustle of the bushes that seemed to follow them, or the shadowy figure that formed in the corner of her eye. Almost. 

“Parker,” she said, “something’s following us.” 

“What’s that?” He asked, distracted by Dani tugging on the curls that poked out below his hat. Olivia grabbed his arm and pointed at the woods, “Something’s in there.” Parker immediately tensed, noticing what she was talking about. “Keep walking,” he said, “but quickly.” They started at a brisk walk, which quickly turned into an all-out sprint when the mysterious presence let out a growl. Parker took a sharp right into the woods, onto a well-worn path. 

“We’re almost there!” He cried, pulling Olivia along behind him. Suddenly, something grabbed onto Olivia’s ankle and her hand was ripped from Parker’s grasp. She tumbled to the ground and rolled quickly onto her back, only to find herself face to face with a wolf. But it wasn’t a regular wolf. The creature had slitted pupils and a forked tongue, and the claws which pinned her to the ground looked like that of a large lizard. She grasped the ground for something to use against it, and found a sharp rock. She tried to use it but the monster dug its claws into her shoulder and she yelled out in pain. Parker lunged forward and smacked the creature aside with a wooden club, and she scrambled to her feet. They continued running and the creature raced behind them, nipping at their heels and growling fiercely. They continued at a sprint and finally exited the woods. 

“Just up that hill!” Parker called, pointing his club at a tall pine tree on the crest of the hill. The end was in sight, but Olivia felt like a rock was sitting at the bottom of her stomach, weighing her down. It just couldn’t be as easy as making it up this hill.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the growling sounds more than doubled in volume. She risked a glance over her shoulder, and saw two of the monsters only a few paces behind them, and three more bolted out of the woods. They were catching up, she knew they would never make it up the hill in time, at least not all of them.

Olivia stopped running and braced herself to fight. Dani _had_ to get to safety, she had to buy them some time.

Parker looked back and yelled, “What are you doing! Come on!” 

Olivia yelled back, “Don’t stop running!” and slashed with her rock at the nearest creature, causing it to recoil in pain. She cut and kicked several of them away, but they just kept coming back for more, and more spilled out of the woods. There were at least eight of them now, all foaming at the mouth and staring her down with their terrifying red eyes. 

Olivia knew she couldn’t take them all down with just a rock, she needed something more. Something like what she did to Madame. 

She summoned all her strength, still slashing the creatures away and backing up the hill as she concentrated. She imagined a sonic wave emanating from her hands, blowing all the creatures back into the woods where they would vaporize on impact. She felt the power build inside her until she couldn’t hold it anymore, and she let it all go with a scream and a sweeping motion of her arms. 

Just as she had imagined, a wave of energy blasted the monsters back, sending them sailing backward, and some of them vaporized on contact with her magic. The wave didn’t stop at the monsters, however, it continued a way into the woods, knocking down whole trees and vaporizing all the leaves and brush in a fifty-foot radius. 

Astonished at what she had done, Olivia stared at her hands for a moment before stumbling up to the top of the hill, where Parker grabbed her and pulled her over the boundary line. 

He was at a loss for words, but managed to say, “W-welcome to Camp Half-Blood.” She gazed out over the peaceful-looking valley, and instantly felt at home. She also instantly passed out. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Harry at the Dursley's :(  
> CW: mention of abuse/neglect

Spring 1987

Harry

  
  


Across the world, one twin had found freedom. The other was not so lucky. 

After that strange conversation with the girl in his cupboard, Harry was emboldened with the urge to leave the Dursleys. 

He was particularly angry, see, at the reason they had locked him in the cupboard. Usually, he could see his own fault, like when he dropped and broke the plates setting the table for dinner. Or, when he had locked Dudley out in the garden and the bowling ball of a child had launched himself through the patio door, tearing through the screen. Dudley, of course, was deemed completely innocent in that matter. 

This time, however, he had truly done nothing wrong! 

Uncle Vernon had been watching Saturday football on the telly, with Petunia seated primly next to him, doing a needlepoint. Dudley and Harry sat on the floor playing with action figures, though Dudley only allowed Harry to play with the toys he got bored of. And he got bored quickly. 

When he finally tossed aside the last plastic figurine, he turned to his parents and whined, “Can _I_ watch something now?”

“Sorry Dudders, your father is watching his game,” Petunia replied, lathering her words in a sweetness that made Harry cringe. 

“But _Mr Benn_ is on today! You _have_ to let me watch!”

Harry perked up, he loved those dumb cartoons. But Uncle Vernon merely tutted and shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. 

Both boys, who normally _never_ agreed with one another, shared a look of disappointment. Dudley’s expression quickly turned to anger, and he turned to his parents again, ready to begin a tantrum. Harry, not in the mood to see the usual routine play out, decided to try his hand.

“ _Please_ , Uncle Vernon?” Harry asked, putting on his most innocent face. This was a mistake, as his uncle interpreted his wide eyes and slightly tilted head as mockery. 

“Don’t get cheeky with me, boy. Sit quietly and watch the game,” he said, gesturing roughly at the TV with the remote. 

Harry rolled his eyes before turning around, another mistake. 

“Hey!” Vernon barked, “Watch it. You should be grateful I’m letting you watch the telly at all you little mongrel.”

Dudley had since forgotten about his planned tantrum, adequately entertained watching his cousin under fire. 

Harry nodded silently, careful to keep a blank expression as he turned to watch the TV again. 

_Yes, I should be_ so _grateful_ , Harry thought bitterly. It’s not like the Dursleys ever gave him anything he wanted anyways, but not even Saturday cartoons? He wished that Uncle Vernon’s stupid game would shut off. It was boring anyway.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, static took over the screen.

Uncle Vernon grunted, clicking the remote with his fat fingers and smacking it when the static wouldn’t disappear. Suddenly, the picture came back, but it wasn’t the game. 

“What the-”

Dudley’s cartoon was now playing. 

Vernon switched back to the game, but two seconds later they were back to _Mr Benn_. 

Again, he clicked the remote, and again, the channel changed back on its own.

Petunia hissed at her husband, “What is going on?”

The boys looked back, and Harry caught Vernon staring at him, face growing redder by the second. 

“Stop it,” Vernon spat, gripping the remote so hard Harry thought it might break. 

“I don’t even have the remote! You do!” he cried, confused.

Aunt Petunia paled, looking between her husband, the TV, and the confused little boy on the floor. 

“Make him stop, Vernon!,” she shrieked, getting up and grabbing her son.

Dudley was just as confused as Harry, but let his mother usher him protectively to the other side of the room. 

Uncle Vernon stood up, looming over Harry. Before Harry could even try to plead his case, he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and dragged out into the hallway. Vernon tossed him roughly into the cupboard and slammed the door, locking it with that dreadful _click_. 

He heard his uncle sigh, followed by the tense footsteps of Aunt Petunia approaching the hall. 

Harry heard her whisper, “We have to squash it out of him, Vernon.”

Squash what out? What had he even done?

Harry’s confusion quickly turned to frustration, and he spent the first few hours of his detention crying hot, angry tears. 

That same night, he met that girl… or, dreamt that girl? When he woke up in the morning, he still didn’t know. 

He _did_ know, however, that he had no intention of staying in that stupid house any longer. 

It was late the next evening when he finally heard the lock click open. He opened the door cautiously, not knowing if it was his aunt or uncle who had decided to end his punishment. He decided to keep his head down either way, not wanting to run into either of them too soon. 

Creeping into the kitchen, he saw Vernon sitting at the table mulling over some financial documents, and guessed that Petunia must have unlocked the cupboard on her way upstairs. 

On the counter was the remnants of their dinner, all piled onto one plate clearly meant for him. As quietly as he could, he picked up the plate and brought it back to the safety of his cupboard. Vernon never looked up from his papers. 

After scarfing down the cold food, Harry readied a plan in his mind. As soon as he heard Uncle Vernon’s heavy footsteps climb the stairs for bed, he would commence his escape. First, he would fill his school backpack with snacks from the cabinets he was especially looking forward to snagging some of Dudley’s fruit gummies, which he refused to let Harry try. Next, he would take the flashlight from the kitchen drawer and some sodas from the fridge. 

When his uncle finally went upstairs, Harry snuck out and got all his supplies together, quiet as a mouse. Tiptoeing around the Dursleys his whole life had prepared him well for this moment, and he managed to open and shut the front door without so much as a creak. 

Feeling successful already, Harry walked out to the end of the driveway and decided to turn left, with faith that his feet would take him somewhere better.

That feeling didn’t last long.

Not long after he rounded the corner onto the next street, a woman’s voice called his name.

“Harry! Harry Potter!”

Grimacing, the little boy turned around to see Mrs. Figg, his wacky neighbor, shuffling towards him in her nightgown. 

“What do you think you’re doing out here so late at night?” She interrogated, hands placed awkwardly on her hips. 

“I’m leaving the Dursleys! I hate it there!” he replied.

“You have to stay with your family, my dear,” she sighed.

Harry frowned “They’re not my family! I’m leaving and you can’t stop me!”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I phoned your Uncle as soon as I saw you from my window,” she said, gesturing to the headlights that were turning onto the street, “He’s going to take you back.”

Harry hung his head, defeated. Surely his punishment for running away was going to be much worse than the injustice he had just endured. 

Even better, when they got to school the following Monday, Dudley told everyone that his cousin was a runaway, a _dangerous_ runaway. As if he needed a harder time making friends. People thought he was weird, most kids avoided him on the playground.

That girl in the cupboard had been one of the first people to ever seem interested in talking to him. He wished he could see her again, wondering if she had really escaped like she said she would. 

Harry knew better than to try leaving again, but the thought nagged at him whenever Vernon barked at him to do his chores faster, or when Dudley jumped on the stairs above the cupboard and sent plaster and spiders cascading down onto his bed. 

Petunia was the worst of them all. Not because she was mean, but because she was confusing. He was inclined to seek comfort in her, as she was the only motherly presence he had in his life. Usually, she was very cold to him, looking at him with distaste. More often, she pretended she didn’t see him at all.

But sometimes, something would change in her gaze ever so briefly. Her eyes would turn sad and almost loving as she looked at him, but as soon as he reciprocated with a hopeful smile, it disappeared. 

It always left Harry wondering what he was doing wrong. Aunt Petunia had the capacity for love, evident in how she doted over her son. What was he doing to stop her from extending that love to him too?

He just wanted a family. Was that really so much to wish for?

***

“Albus. You must _listen_ to me,” McGonagall urged, frustrated. She had gone to check on Harry, spying on the Dursleys in cat form. Just sitting on their driveway wall and peering into the windows, she saw enough of how they treated him to make her blood boil. If it weren’t for Dumbledore’s orders to leave the boy alone, she’d have already busted down the door and taken him. 

As soon as she had returned, she stormed into Dumbledore’s office, urging him to get Harry out of there. 

But the old man was resolute in his decision, “I’ve heard enough, Minerva. I will not change my mind.”

“The boy is being abused! Neglected! I’ve seen it! What possible justification could you have?”

“I just ask you to put your faith in me, Minerva. This is how it must be.”

“It is hard to do so when you won’t even tell me-” 

He cut her off, “Everything will work out in the end. Harry will stay where he is. It is for the greater good.”

“That sounds awfully familiar, Albus,” McGonagall said, her voice gone quiet and defeated. She shook her head and walked slowly to the door, leaving the air in his office thick with tension and disappointment. 

Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair. As he stroked his long silver beard, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the strange metal trinkets on his desk. Age, which had always come on so slowly, now seemed to be rushing along. His wrinkles deepened by the day, and he realized he was staring at the face of an old, old man. All except his bright eyes, and he wondered if they had ever really matured from the idealistic, greedy gaze of his youth.


End file.
